


The Girl Who Found Fear At Last

by Is0lde



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fairy Tale Style, Frame Narrative, Kid Fic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 04:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6141415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Is0lde/pseuds/Is0lde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Last time I checked that was not how The Boy who Found Fear at Last goes."</p>
<p>A retelling of the classic Turkish fairytale featuring Shallan and her boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Girl Who Found Fear At Last

**Author's Note:**

> This is a loose adaptation and embellishment of the Turkish fairytale The Boy Who Found Fear At Last. A lot has been added to make the story work within the frame of a cute OT4 story, though very little of the original story has been removed. I made a stylistic choice to write in the style of a fairytale, keeping it simplistic in nature and rather linear in it’s narrative. And the semi-frame narrative takes place in a modern setting. This is 100% AU and shameless fluff.

Once upon a time there lived three brothers who had one sister they loved quite dearly. The house they lived in was built far away from any villages, at the edge of the forest. They had no parents or neighbours and the place was quite lonely so the girl was kept at home at all times to keep her brothers company.

One evening as they were sitting together, the girl drawing her brothers faces by the fire, the sky grew suddenly dark and a storm rolled in. The wind was so strong it blew open the door to their house. The three brothers shivered and glanced over their shoulders as though they expected something awful to be standing in the doorway.

“Go shut the door Shallan,” Said her eldest brother.

The girl, Shallan, looked to the doorway. She saw the lightning flash in the sky and thought it quite beautiful. The wind was cool and moist but it smelled lovely.

“Why?” She inquired.

“Because we feel frightened,” said her second eldest brother who sat stiff and straight and pointedly did not look over his shoulder.

“Frightened,” repeated Shallan. “What does it feel like to be frightened?”

Her third eldest brother’s grip tightened on his glass of wine, still not having taken his eyes off the door. “Well–Just frightened. A fear of something, you hardly know what, just takes hold of you.”

“It must be very odd to feel like that,” Shallan said, rising and shutting the door for her brothers. As she locked the door she came to a decision. “I will go through the world and seek fear until I find it.” And the next morning, before her brothers or the sun had risen, Shallan had left their little home at the edge of the forest behind.

After walking for a day she reached a mountain, which she began to climb. Near the top, where the sky was wild, clear and full of stars, she came upon a band of fierce robbers sitting around a fire. Shallan, who was cold and tired, was delighted to see the bright flames. Fearlessly she went up to them, curtsied, and said, “Good greeting to you, sirs,” and wriggled herself in between the men until her feet almost touched the burning logs.

The robbers stopped drinking and eyed Shallan curiously. Finally the dark haired, hawked faced captain spoke.

“No caravan of armed men would dare to come here. Even the very birds shun our camp. Who are you to venture in so boldly?” He asked, the flames making the shadows on his face quite sharp.

“Oh,” Shallan said, looking up at him from the flames. “I have left my home and brothers in search of fear. Perhaps you can show it to me?”

“Fear is wherever we are,” said the one armed robber to her left jovially. “Even us one armed robbers are scary!”

“But where?” Shallan asked with confusion, looking about her and at the faces of the robbers. “I see nothing but honest men around a fire trying to keep warm.”

The biggest of the robbers suddenly smiled. He stood up and fetched a small pot and placed it on her lap. “Take this pot and some flour, butter and sugar. Go to the churchyard and bake us a cake for supper,” He said.

And Shallan, who was by this time quite warm, smiled in response and took the pot and ingredients from him. She curtsied politely to the robbers and began to make her way down the mountain once more.

“Airsick lowlanders,” the biggest robber said, shaking his head.

When Shallan got to the churchyard she collected some sticks and made a fire. She then he filled the pot with water from a little stream close by. She mixed the flour, butter and sugar together and set the pot on the fire to cook, watching it rise and grow crisp and brown. Once it was done she removed it from the fire and turned the pot over to remove the cake, letting it cool on one of the fallen stones. Suddenly a hand rose from the grave beside her and a voice asked:

“Is that cake for me?”

“Do you think I’m going to give the dead the food of the living?” Shallan asked with a laugh and rapped the hand hard and chiddingly with her long wooden spoon.

“Ow!” The hand shook itself and disappeared. Once the cake was cooled she put the fire out and picked up the cake. As she left the churchyard she bumped into a tall, dark haired boy. He was rubbing the back of his hand, frowning at it.

“Oh, hello!” Shallan said.

The dark haired boy scowled at the cake. He seemed to scowl a lot. “Who is the cake for?” He asked.

“The robbers at the top of the mountain,” Shallan informed him with a smile, curtsying and passing him by.

“Wait,” the dark haired boy said, running after her. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, thank you! I could use some company on my journey,” she said. “Though perhaps not that scowl of yours.”

The dark haired boy glowered at her but followed her none the less up the mountain. After some time he said, begrudgingly:

“My name is Kaladin.”

“My name is Shallan,” she replied kindly with a smile.

Eventually they reached the band of robbers once more, still crowded around the fire.

“Well, have you found fear?” asked the robbers when Shallan held out the cake to the captain.

“No. Was it supposed to be down there?” Shallan asked with bemusement. “I saw nothing but a hand which rose out of a grave that belonged to someone who wanted my cake! But I just rapped the back of the hand with my spoon, and said it was not for him. Then the hand vanished! When I left I found my new grumpy friend Kaladin,” She informed them, gesturing at the boy who lurked in the shadows. Shallan then wiggled her way through the robbers once more and knelt by the fire. “Oh, it’s so lovely and warm.”

She did not see the surprised looks on the robbers faces.

“There is another chance for you,” said the eldest robber. “On the other side of the mountain lies a deep pool. If you venture there perhaps you may meet fear on the way.”

“Oh I hope so,” Shallan said with a smile. Once she was warm again she bid the robbers farewell and set out. Moments later Kaladin appeared at her side her once more.

“Coming with me then?” She asked, humming pleasantly to herself.

“Yes,” Kaladin said stubbornly.

Eventually they soon beheld the waters of the pool reflecting the half light before dawn. As they drew near they saw a tall swing standing high above it. In the swing a boy with gold and black hair was seated, weeping bitterly into his hands.

“What a strange place to hang a swing,” Shallan said, her eyes landing on the boy. “I wonder what he’s crying about?”

“We should probably help him down,” Kaladin said, his frown deepening. Shallan smiled and nodded and the two hurried over to the bank of the pond. Yet before they could reach it a woman ran before them and grabbed Shallan’s sleeve.

“Please,” she begged. “I want to lift my brother from the swing but it’s too high for me to reach! If the two of you lift me upon your shoulders I should be able to reach him!”

“Of course,” Shallan acquiesced as Kaladin grunted in agreement. In an instant the woman had climbed up onto their shoulders yet instead of reaching for the boy she shifted herself entirely onto Shallan’s shoulders and pressed her feet firmly into the sides of her neck. Shallan felt as though she would be choked. The woman waved her hand and sent Kaladin flying and tumbling over the grass before he could help Shallan.

All alone and being suffocated by the witch Shallan gathered up all her strength. She gave a mighty heave and threw the woman backwards and off her shoulders. When the witch hit the ground she shattered into a million little pieces, leaving only a bracelet behind.

“Are you alright, Shallan?” Kaladin asked, running back over to her. Shallan smiled and nodded before looking to the swing and the boy, who was wiping the tears from his face.

“We should probably help him down,” She said. “I think he’s been kept there a long time.”

A strange look passed Kaladin’s face before he nodded, eyes hard with determination. “Yes.”

The two of them approached the pond once more and Shallan clambered up onto his shoulders. The boy on the swing looked at her when she held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Shallan,” She said. “And the grumpy one is Kaladin. We’re here to help you.”

“R-renarin,” The boy said, as if surprised by her kindness. He hesitated before taking her hand, a shy smile of his own forming. “Thank you.” Yet when she gently tugged the boy from the swing instead of landing on the ground the two of them fell into the pool.

“I’m so sorry,” Renarin exclaimed when they surfaced. Kaladin held out his hands and pulled them both from the water. “Truly I am, miss Shallan.”

“It’s alright,” Shallan replied with a smile. Kaladin knelt down and retrieved the boy’s glasses which had dropped to the ground when they had fallen. Renarin accepted them with a blush and murmured thanks. As this occurred Shallan’s eyes fell upon the witch’s bracelet. She went over and picked it up.

“I may as well keep this as a remembrance of all the strange things that have happened to me since I left home,” she decided. She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and it gleamed prettily.

“If it is not too much trouble, may I come with you?” Renarin asked, approaching Shallan.

“Yes, of course,” Shallan said. “It would be nice to have some company that wasn’t quite so gloomy all the time.”

Kaladin frowned and Renarin smiled awkwardly.

The three of them set out beyond the pond, heading for the little town which was situated on the plain on the further side of the mountain. As they, hungry and thirsty, entered the principle street an ogre carrying a basket of bread and jam stopped them.

“Where did you get that bracelet,” asked the ogre. “It belongs to me.”

“No, it is mine,” replied Shallan. Kaladin moved to stand before her but she stopped him. Renarin’s hand brushed her sleeve in reassurance.

“It is not. Give it to me at once or you shall regret it,” the ogre threatened.

“Let us go before a judge and tell him our stories,” Shallan suggested. “If he decides in your favour, you shall have it. If he decides in my favour, I will keep it!”

The ogre considered her words before nodding slowly. “This is fair,” he agreed.

The four of them went together to the great hall in the centre of the town, where the judge presided over cases. The ogre and Shallan both presented their stories to the judge, who listened to each of them patiently.

“Unfortunately,” the judge said with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark black hair that was greying at the temples. “Neither of you have proven your right to the bracelet.”

“Surely there must be a way for one of us to prove our case, Your Honour,” Shallan inquired.

“This bracelet will remain in my care until its fellow can be brought before me. Whoever so produces its twin shall have the bracelet.”

When they heard this the ogre and Shallan looked at each other and their eyes said: “Where are we to find the other one?” But they knew there was no use in disputing the judge’s decision. They bowed low and left the hall of audience and the ogre parted ways with Shallan and her companions.

“I am not sure where I will ever find its twin,” Shallan confided to Renarin and Kaladin.

“Do not say that,” Renarin said. Kaladin gave a curt nod in agreement. “Perhaps one day you will find it when you least expect to.”

The three companions wandered for sometime before finally finding themselves on the sea-shore. A little ways away was a ship which had struck a hidden rock and was rapidly sinking. On its deck the crew were gathered, with faces white as death.

“Have you met with fear?” shouted Shallan. An answer came back above the roar of the waves.

“Oh help! Help! We are drowning!”

“I’m going to go help them,” Shallan told Kaladin and Renarin. “Perhaps there I will discover fear.”

“Take this,” Renarin said, producing some rope. Shallan took one end of the rope and tied it securely around her waist. Renarin held tight to the other end.

“And take this,” Kaladin said, producing a knife. Shallan took the knife from him and tucked it into her belt. Then Kaladin grabbed the other end of the rope with Renarin. Shallan nodded gratefully before turning and diving into the waves, swimming over to the ship.

“‘lo there,” Shallan called as she swam up to the port side. A sailor with long white eyebrows looked over the edge at her. “What happened here?” She asked him.

“The ship hit a rock,” he told her anxiously. “The ship is being tossed hither and thither, and will soon be sucked down. Death is very near, and the crew is frightened!”

“Don’t worry,” Shallan assured him before taking a deep breath and diving beneath the waves. Down she went, down, down, down until at last her feet touched the bottom of the sea floor. She looked about her and saw one of the sea people, with a wickedly handsome face, tugging hard at a chain which he had fastened to the ship with a grappling iron and was dragging it beneath the waves. Seizing his arms in both of her hands she forced him to drop the chain and the ship above remained steady. The sailors took the opportunity to float the ship off the rock.

Shallan took the knife in her pocket and cut the rope around her waist and used it to fasten the merman firmly to a stone so that he could do no more mischief. She bid him farewell with a curtsy and swam back to the beach. Yet her companions were not there waiting. Their end of the rope was lying alone on the beach. Worried, Shallan set out in search of them.

Eventually she came upon a beautiful and shady garden filled with flowers and a clear stream running through it. The day was hot and she was tired and weary from her travel and search so she entered the gate and seated herself under a clump of bushes covered with sweet-smelling red blossoms. It was not long before sleep claimed her.

Suddenly a rush of wings and a cool breeze awakened her and raising her head she saw three doves plunging into a stream. They splashed joyfully about and shook themselves before diving to the bottom of a deep pool. When they appeared again they were no longer three doves, but three handsome young men she had seen before. Shallan sat up as they approached her.

“To the kind, honourable and courageous young woman who prepared the cake and rapped my hand with the spoon when I stretched it out of the earth,” Kaladin said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. He smiled at her genuinely. “I offer my allegiance.”

“To the kind, honourable and courageous young woman who rescued me from the wicked witch who had trapped me,” Renarin said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “I offer my allegiance.”

The final young man approached her, his face that of the merman though it was kind and noble now instead of wicked. He had the same gold and black hair as Renarin. “To the kind, honourable and courageous young woman who stopped me from drowning the ship,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “I offer my allegiance.”

“And what is your name,” Shallan asked as he rose once more.

“Adolin,” he replied.

“We are sorry for all the trouble we put you through,” Renarin admitted, shying away slightly.

“They were tests of courage and kindness,” Kaladin explained. Adolin rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Yes, but yours was not very good,” Adolin said, smirking somewhat. Kaladin glared at him and Renarin sighed quietly with exasperation.

“No, it was the work of three mischievous apprentices with too much time on their hands,” said a new voice. The three young men froze and spun about to face the new arrival, bowing deeply with deference.

“Cousin,” Renarin and Adolin said.

“Lady Jasnah,” said Kaladin.

The lady that approached was the most beautiful that Shallan had ever seen. Her hair was dark as valuable coal and her eyes shone like jewels. She carried herself with enviable grace and confidence. And around her wrist lay the bracelet she had been searching for. Shallan curtsied to her.

“And who are you, child, who has so easily distracted my three apprentices from their duties and studies?” Lady Jasnah asked, peering down her nose at Shallan.

“A courageous young woman,” Adolin answered. “For she showed no fear in diving beneath the waves and tying me up.”

“A honourable young woman,” Kaladin answered. “For she seeked aid of a judge in a dispute rather than resort to trickery.”

“A kind young woman,” Renarin answered. “For she rescued me from your rival, the witch Tyn, when she need not have.”

“Last I checked,” Jasnah said cooly. “I did not ask any of you this question. Can this young woman not answer for herself?”

The three young men bowed their heads, murmuring their apologies, chastised.

“So I will ask again, child, who are you?”

Shallan curtsied once more. “My name is Shallan, my lady, and I am a girl who is seeking fear and the twin to the bracelet I won from a witch.”

“Searching for fear?” Jasnah asked, with scathing incredulity. “My apprentices claim you are courageous, honourable and kind–and I must thank you with sincerity for rescuing Renarin from Tyn–yet these traits pale in comparison to wisdom. Your quest is foolhardy.”

“On the contrary, my lady,” Shallan said. “How can one be wise if they do not understand something? I do not understand nor know fear, I have not yet laid eyes upon it. How could I be wise if I know not what fear is? To remain oblivious would be to remain in ignorance, my lady.”

Jasnah smiled and pulled the bracelet from her wrist, proffering it to Shallan. “Wisely spoken, child.”

Shallan accepted the bracelet. “Thank you.”

“I wish you luck and safety on your quest,” said Jasnah, turning away and gesturing for her three apprentices to follow. Instead they moved towards Shallan, standing beside her. She frowned at the trio and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“We swore our allegiance to this young woman, cousin,” Adolin explained, taking Shallan’s hand in his.

“She is our friend,” Renarin explained, hesitantly taking her other hand.

“You have taught us well but now we must choose our path,” Kaladin explained, laying his hands on her shoulders gently.

“And it is with this girl?” Jasnah asked.

“Yes,” the three replied.

“Then I wish you good luck as well,” Jasnah said, bidding the four of them farewell.

Together Shallan and her faithful companions returned to the town and retrieved the bracelet from the Judge. From there they travelled together both far and wide in search of fear. On and on they walked for years but fear never crossed their path. One day they entered a large city where all the streets and squares were full of people.

“Why are all these crowds gathered together?” Shallan asked one of the women who stood next to them.

“The ruler of this country is dead,” the old woman replied. “And he had no heir. We must choose a successor. Therefore, each morning one of the sacred pigeons is let loose from the highest tower of the castle and on whomsoever the bird shall perch, that person will become our new king or queen. In a few minutes the pigeon will fly. Wait and see what happens.”

Every eye was fixed on the tall tower and the moment that the sun was seen to stand straight above it a door was opened. A pigeon, gleaming with pink and grey and blue and green came rushing through the air. Onward it flew, onward and onward until at length she finally settled upon the head of Shallan. A great chorus arose around them:

“The Queen! The Queen!”

A vision, swifter than lightning, flashed across Shallan’s mind. She saw herself seated on a throne, spending her life trying, and never succeeding, to make the poor people rich; the miserable people happy; the bad people good. Something within her chest seized up, tightly wound, and tears sprung to her eyes as she grew deathly pale.

“No! No!” She shrieked, falling to her knees and hiding her face. More and more pigeons landed upon her, giving her the likeness of wings.

“The Queen! The Queen!” The roar of the crowd grew deafening and Shallan wished to run and hide. Then suddenly the world grew still and quiet. Three gentle pairs of hands helped her to her feet.

“This is the fear whom you have so long sought,” Renarin explained to her sorrowfully, soothing her hair.

“Yet we will not abandon you to this task alone,” Kaladin said, brushing away her tears.

“We will be there to love you and support you however we can,” Adolin assured, kissing her forehead.

“But I will not make a good queen!” Shallan cried.

“You are courageous,” Adolin said.

“You are honourable,” Kaladin said.

“You are kind,” Renarin said. “And you are wise, Shallan.”

“But these things cannot make the poor people rich! They cannot make the sad people happy! They cannot make the bad people good!”

“No, but as Queen you must try,” Kaladin encouraged. “For that is what it means to be Queen.”

“And we will be there for you, as you have been there for us,” Adolin said, taking her hand in his. Though the fear did not go away it lessened as Renarin and Kaladin also touched her hand, smiling at her with such love and adoration.

“It is time to become who you were always meant to be,” Renarin said.

The cheers suddenly filled her ears once more and the pigeons alighted from her shoulders. Raising her head Shallan accepted her fate and allowing the crowds to guide her towards the castle, her lovers at her side.

* * *

“Last time I checked that was not how _The Boy who Found Fear at Last_ goes,” Kaladin said as Shallan tucked the blankets tighter around her eldest daughter’s sleeping form, stooping down to kiss her cheek. She turned and gave him a cheeky smile.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Kaladin said with a fond sigh before poking Adolin’s cheek. “Wake up and get off me, Princeling.”

Adolin jerked slightly and cracked open one eye.

“Hi, sleepy head,” Shallan snickered.

“Aw, I slept through it?”

“Like a log,” Renarin informed him as he came back from carting the youngest back to her room. “You were a wicked mermaid in this one.”

“Really? Cool,” Adolin said as he leaned his head back onto Kaladin’s shoulder. Kaladin huffed.

“What part of ‘get off me’ do you not understand?” Kaladin asked, flicking Adolin’s forehead.

“Mmmmm but you’re comfy,” Adolin confided before wrapping his arms around Kaladin and forcing him down onto beanbag. Adolin rolled on top of him. “I think I’ll sleep right here tonight!”

“No, get off!” Kaladin hissed. “Shallan, Renarin! Get him off me!”

Shallan grinned mischieviously and flopped down on top of them both, earning a laugh from Adolin and an 'oof’ from Kaladin. “Nope, we’re going to squish you into jam.”

“How utterly diabolical… but your plan isn’t working.”

“Hmmmm you’re right.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

Suddenly Renarin sat on top of Shallan’s back. Kaladin groaned and glared up at his bespectacled partner as Shallan and Adolin sniggered.

“Traitor.”

Renarin smiled at him and leaned over the other two to deposit a kiss on Kaladin’s forehead. “Sorry Captain, they’re very persuasive.”

“I bet they are.”

“Well as king of the tower I think I will adjourn to bed,” Renarin said, hopping off. “Lest I actually turn Kaladin into jam.”

“This is why I love you best,” Kaladin said, breathing easier.

“Hey!” Adolin and Shallan whined. Kaladin rolled his eyes.

“Okay, Renarin and Shallan I love best,” he said as Shallan rolled off and was helped to her feet by Renarin. He met Adolin’s eyes dead on. “You, on the other hand, I utterly despise.”

Adolin tilted his head as if considering Kaladin’s words. He then leant down and stole a kiss. “The feeling is entirely mutual,” he said and rolled lithely off Kaladin, who got up with a groan afterwards. Shallan came over and kissed each of them in turn.

“Come on, knuckleheads,” she said, taking both their hands and pulling them over to where Renarin waited at the door. “The king of the tower is adjourning and we can’t let him go on his own now, can we?”

“It would be rather rude of us,” Adolin agreed, reaching over to ruffle Renarin’s hair. Kaladin cracked a genuine smile and nodded. As they filed out of their sleeping child’s room Shallan paused to turn out the light.

“You know, you never said whether Shallan lived happily ever after,” Renarin said, waiting as she shut the door.

“Well the original tale was far more cautionary and dealt with the burdens of kingship,” Shallan said. Renarin nodded and Shallan smiled, taking his hand and leading him down the hall after Kaladin and Adolin. “But I think this Shallan’s happily ever after is turning out just fine.”


End file.
